Afterthoughts
by Spagle
Summary: AU! Chloe is a member of the Justice League, however, she can no longer handle being an afterthought in Clark's life. The whole world changes when she decides to walk out of Clark's life.


Title: Afterthoughts

Pairing: Friendship between Chloe and Justice League members. Unsure which one Chloe ends up with.

Rating: Teen (mentions of sexual activates, drinking and course words)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just do this for fun.

**Summary: AU! Chloe is a member of the Justice League, however, she can no longer handle being an afterthought in Clark's life. The whole world changes when she decides to walk out of Clark's life. **

A/N: This is AU after the events of Zod taking over Lex's body. However there is a big change: Lois never came to Smallville. She died in Afghanistan at a young age. After the Zod experience Lex starts to change, he becomes more like his old self. Lex and Lana marry. Two months later, Lana and Lex divorce. Neither of them really loved each other. Lana starts to date Clark and knows he has super powers. Lex and Clark have slowly become friends again, however Lex is starting to teeter between good and evil Oliver lives in Metropolis. Chloe's mutant power is her ability to talk to computers, she is a member of the Justice League. She, Clark, and Lana are twenty. Clark and her work as interns at the Daily Planet.

A/N2: This is written in a writing style you may not like at first, but really suits this storyline. Just give it a few paragraphs and you'll see it really works well with Chloe.

* * *

Just before you leave the office for lunch, you know you are overdue on three important tasks as you all but run to the elevator. You have a deadline to meet, a dozen emails to answer, and a stack of files to look through. You hate leaving unfinished work behind, but today you need your afternoon coffee before you kill someone. You don't use your powers at work, you want to get an indeterminate position at The Planet on your own merit. Besides, it'd be unfair to the other interns, if you use your otherworldly skills to your advantages. Just thinking about it reminds you of your last Justice meeting.

Clark watches Spiderman way too much and starts every meeting saying, 'with great power comes great responsibility.' At the last meeting when Clark says it, Bart snorts and starts calling Clark, Uncle Kent. Clark ignores the name and begins a long winded speech on responsibility. As Clark talks, Oliver gives you a wink and waves the alien's Spiderman DVD behind your leader's back. You hide a smile as he throws the DVD at Arthur, who quickly throws it out the window. You giggle as Arthur begins to whistle. He leans back on his heels and looks around the room innocently. Bart chuckles as he leans against you and you wrap an arm around his shoulder. Everyone is still chuckling behind their hands, when John comes into the room. His glare says loud and clear, 'be serious, humans!'

Clark finally stops his speech and looks around oblivious. "What?" he asks in confusion. Oliver can't help it. He laughs so hard that he leans into you and Bart. John glares and Clark huffs impatiently. "Honestly, Ollie." The look and tone Clark gives Oliver, makes everyone crack up. All the humans are laughing hysterically, as the two aliens stare at each other in confusion. After the meeting, Bart tells you that he finally feels like he belongs somewhere. You tell him you feel the same. He asks you if it scares you as much as it scares him. You hug him, but don't tell him that yes, it does scare you.

Like Bart, hell any of the Justice boys, feeling like you belong is hard for you. This morning at work, is a perfect example. You had another run in with David Donavan, the arrogant, self proclaimed, ace reporter for the Daily Planet. His brown hair is worn stylish, without a strand out of place. A black suit, always black, always tailored to highlight his trim body. He has lightly tanned skin that makes his green eyes standout. David is tall, handsome, intelligent and one of the biggest assholes you have ever met. David makes your life a living hell. He believes you're sole purpose in life is to get his coffee and do his paperwork.

"Intern," David's nickname for you, announces loudly, ensuring everyone around him knows how important he is, "I want you to look through my emails this morning. Make sure you flag all the ones that 'I' have to personally answer, and do a quick reply to those you can handle." The Bastard (your secret nickname for him) didn't even wait for a response before he struts away on his God Damn high horse. By the afternoon, you know you'll boot kick him if you don't make your escape.

Once you get to the elevators, your eyes nervously shift to and fro, encase The Bastard catches you skipping out. As you wait, you hit the button on the wall a few times and whisper, 'come on, come on.' You hear someone walk close behind you and your hands shake as you stab the button. When the doors finally open, you all but fly into the elevator, and exhale as the doors close behind you. If someone calls out, 'hold the door!' you pretend you don't hear them.

'Damn,' you think as you turn around to watch the numbers descend to the parking lot, 'I should have stayed to get my work done.' Being complacent at work, even if it was only an afternoon, is hard on you. 'No,' you tell yourself, 'I will not let the guilt set in. I needed a break damn it!'

Once you're in the parking lot, you make a beeline for your car. One hand carries your keys, as the other clutches tightly onto your purse. You were mugged a few weeks ago and now know not to dangle your purse around for everyone to see. Your father's words ring in your ears, 'if you insist on living alone in the big city, my dear, you need to be aware of the dangers around you.' You reminded your father, 'living alone is not by choice,' and thank him for pointing out the depressing status of your love life. Your father gives you that look, the one all single women hate, and you remind yourself that one does not bat one's father on the nose.

The night after you're mugged, you met Arthur for dinner. He is dressed in a black tie, and looks every last inch of the royalty he is. You call him a handsome prince. He blushes before he kisses your cheek. He pulls away, and his smile disappears, as he takes a better look at your face. His gentle eyes become fierce as he grabs your chin and stares at your black eye. He demands to know what happened. You tell Arthur about the mugging, and his jaw clenches tight. He drags you to Oliver's, and will not listen to reason when you say it's not a big deal. Clark and Oliver are discussing business when you walk in. Both of them jump up when they see your black eye.

"I go away for a few days," Arthur snaps at them, "and you let this happen?" Arthur keeps one arm around your shoulder as he glares at the two other men. The three of them yell at each other before you snap, "I am not a child!" You walk away in disgust. Arthur runs after you, and apologizes for starting the fight. You tell him you can take care of yourself as Ollie and Clark come running up behind him. Arthur agrees with you but says, 'Chloe, I don't think you know how important you are- to us." Clark nods his head at Arthur's words, but pulls you away from him. You don't miss the glare the two superheroes exchange. Clark asks you to call out his name whenever you need him. "I'll be right there, the moment you call for me." You agree and glance behind him to see Arthur and Ollie glaring at each other. When they see you staring, their eyes soften. "I am okay, boys." you say and all three of them smile at you.

You shake your head at their over protectiveness as you get into your car, turn on the ignition, and you quickly turn up the music. The radio must sense your need, because it starts blaring one of your favourite songs. You happily sing along, and pat your steering wheel lovingly. The windows are down and the sun is hitting your eyes. You smile as you rip out of the parking lot. For the first time that day, you feel merely twenty and no more.

It's one of those days that make you feel bad for being inside. Youimagine all the healthy people of the world are using their lunch hour to workout. No doubt their noses are high in the air, looking down at the rest of the population that run to the local fast food restaurant and scoff down a burger and fries.

On one of your more bloated days, you sometimes consider going to the gym on your lunch break, but realize you're too lazy to even complete the fantasy. You'll always be a burger and fries girl and leave the salads to your stick-figured friend Lana.

You love driving and even if you've always been a city driver, you allow yourself to go slow. You drive past Luthorcorp and The Lex Towers, and turn left on Davies Street to a small café named, 'After Thoughts.'

Ah, your sanctuary, your home away from home. Unfortunately, you found the cafe in one of your darker days and thought the name suited your mood. You don't like to think of yourself as a 'supporting character' in your own life, but have to admit, you haven't made it to 'Leading Lady' status yet. Thankfully you quickly got over yourself and realized that the café was a great place to unwind and de-stress.

After the first visit, you sneak out to the café whenever you can. You realize there is something about the white noise of other's conversations that comforts you. You drink overpriced coffee that you really don't mind paying for. You reason the extra cost is the price paid for a great atmosphere.

You hold a cup of coffee, that warms your hands, as you lay out the daily newspaper and read the funnies. You don't read the current events first, because thankfully, no one is around to judge you. Even if you notice on the front cover, the faces of your closest friends hidden behind masks, you turn the page. You're in your authenticity and the real you wants to laugh at Calvin's brilliant, eternally youthful mind.

Thankfully, everyone at the Daily Planet, runs to that dive of a restaurant that you absolutely hate. Reporters run around The Greasy Scoop, praising each other and kissing each others asses for the sole purpose of trying to get ahead. The one time you go, you watch everyone surround David. He tells everyone about his interview with 'Green Arrow.' Some of the female interns swoon as he says in a loud voice, "Green Arrow even allowed me to hold his bow." You laugh, you laugh so hard and suddenly, that your coffee spits up and hits Jimmy Olsen's face. You apologize to Jimmy and ask The Bastard if the bow was as big as he thought it was going to be. David gets the innuendo faster than you thought. He glares at you, before he returns to his story, however you notice he won't say a word about the bow.

That night you went over to Oliver's, the two of you laugh for hours and play a drinking game, whoever comes up with the best innuendo about his bow gets to take a shot. You crash at his place that night, thoroughly trashed and completely mortified at how dirty your innuendos became by the end of the night.

After that day, you refuse to go back to The Greasy Scoop, people ask, but you always claim to be busy. You know there are rumours floating around about you, but you never pay them any mind. If people believe you're in some torrid affair, well, at least a part of you is getting some action, even if it's just your reputation.

After a month of sneaking to the café, you've dubbed your lunch hours, 'Chloe's time for rest and relaxation.' You realize, slowly but surely, that you're an addict for their pecan pie and overly sweet coffee blends. It's your personal hide away, but unfortunately, like all things in the world, it has a flaw.

The café's one flaw: Clark Kent knows you hide here from the real world.

Not to say that you don't love the guy, because you do, you adore him, but you wanted one secret to yourself. However, secrets are hard to keep, when your best friend can hear your distinctive heart beat from across the country. That thought always runs through your head when you touch yourself and wonder, does he hear your heart race? You never say his name during these times, even if you desperately want to whisper it just to hear it fall from your lips.

The first time he walks into the cafe and sits down next to you, you're in the middle of a giggle fest over the newest comic strip.

You're so shocked to see him that you spill your coffee and stain your favourite white shirt. You look down in dismay and start to curse like a drunken sailor. Clark, being the bastard he is, chuckles at you as he begins to read over your shoulder. You hate when people do that, and he knows it.

"Do you mind?" You snarl.

He raises a brow and ignores your imitation of a lioness, "So this is where you met the man you're having an affair with?"

You snort in a way that would make Lana cringe, like you did when she came back from France with a fake French accent. You shudder just thinking about it. It took two friendly interventions, Clark even attended, before Lana stopped.

"Like we'd met somewhere so cliché, Clark." you say as you grab a napkin and try to clean the mess off your shirt. You look down and shake your head, white was never a good idea with nerves like yours.

Clark sits down next to you and gives you one of his brightest smiles, "I don't hear you denying it."

You huff and cross your arms, "So you didn't use your super hearing to check up on me when you first heard the rumours?"

Clark shakes his head, all indignant and serious, "I would never spy on you."

You roll your eyes at him and stop short when you see a group of girls giggle and glance at Clark. They give you a jealous glare and you just barely stop yourself from sticking out your tongue. Like always, Clark is oblivious and chuckles at the comic strip he is reading. His eyes crinkle upward and his mouth spreads wide and-damn, he's a sight to behold. The look in the young women's eyes are the same as you hold in your own. The man is just too damn good looking for normal society.

You sigh and get more comfortable as you push the newspaper closer to him.

"So how did you find me, Clark?" you ask, all the while being aware of the young girls straining to listen in on your conversation.

Clark has the decency to look embarrassed before he states, "I was worried about you."

"And…" you say, because you can tell what he really wants to talk about when he uses that soft tone of voice.

He sighs and you wait for it-the one name that would make the rest of your lunch break hell.

'Well, me and Lana got into a fight…"

You hold back a sigh, and listen as he breaks in front of you. This is a part of Clark that no one but you gets to see, a small part of Clark that is yours and yours alone. You attempt to make this into a positive, but lately you have began to wonder, if living vicariously through Lana to be intimate with Clark, has sailed past desperate town and has made its way to the shores of just plain sad.

When you ask Oliver about this, he nods his head and agrees, 'You're walking the shores of Sadville, Chloe.' You hit him over the head, and he grabs your arm, and gives you a hug. 'Get over him.' he whispers into your ear, before kissing the top of your head. He's dressed in his Green Arrow costume and gives you a dashing smile as he places his hood over his head. 'Go be a bad ass, Ollie!' you say as he swings his bow in loops left and right. His smile turns feral, before he leaps to the open window and shoots an arrow across town. As he dives off the ledge, you shout, 'show off!' You hear his laughter as he sails through the night air.

* * *

As the weeks pass, Clark shows up at the café, more and more often. Lana's name is always on the tip of his tongue. He looks to you for some kind of comfort, which you always give. You hold his hand, buy him a cup of coffee, and tell him everything will work out. You drive him back to work when the lunch break is over.

However, today is different, with The Bastard looming over you and the stress piling high. You hope Lana is happy today, because a happy Lana, means a Clark-free lunch hour for you. After a few minutes pass by, you think you're safe, however luck is not on your side. Clark sits down in the booth across from you and sighs. You almost scream with irritation.

'Damn it, not today,' you think, 'no 'woes me' conversations today!' Can't Lana just be damn well grateful to have him, you know you'd be. Hell, how much was there really to fight about when your man was a real-life hero and looked every inch the part! But that isn't the point, what really matters to you is, you have a deadline, a box filled with unanswered emails, and a laundry list of things to do at home. This hour is yours damn it! You didn't need to add on Clark's daily drama on top of everything else. Any other day, but not today!

You don't even notice that your eyes narrow as you roughly throw down your paper and snap at Clark.

"If this has anything to do with Lana, stand up immediately and walk away," You state with a finger already pointed at the door. "I have drama coming out of my pores, Clark, and my dermatologist tells me that anymore and I might as well go around calling myself a living, breathing pizza."

Clark closely examines your face, and you blush at his scrutiny, before you get irritated. You swat your hand in his direction.

"Hey, it's just a figure of speech, Kent," you hiss, and pick up your cup of coffee, "there isn't a single zit on me, that the girls down in 'Cover Girl' land, can't make magically disappear."

He looks down, and then up at you, behind his lashes. He has to know, you know he knows, how much that one look affects you.

"You seem a bit cranky today, Chlo'." He asks in that soft, almost flirty voice, that plays havoc with your heart and mind.

You want to yell at him, like you did when you were teenagers, and you still believed his lies were meant to hurt you. The stress is building: deadlines, bastards, emails and files stacked to the brim on your desk and-and you haven't been laid in a very long time! It's damn well getting to you.

"Yeah, well, that's because I am!' and when you yell at him, it feels so good that you actually exhale with the relief it brings.

He looks shocked at first, before he moves towards you and wraps his arm around you. God, he smells so good, like spices from exotic worlds you've only read about. Last year, you considered traveling, before the Planet offered you the internship, and spent days in the library. Even if the computer and you, are on a first name basis, you still love the smell and feel of books. During those days, you read about far away lands, and wondered if somewhere out there was a man that would smell as intoxicating as Clark.

"Tell me." He whispers in his deep, baritone voice. You discreetly take in his scent. You feel comfortable in his arms, more comfortable than you should. Out of nowhere you let go. You let him have it, all the crap going on in your life, the Bastard, the emails, the no sex and bad taste of low fat-food. You keep going and going, until you find it hard to breathe, and your mind becomes mushy and overloaded.

When Clark wipes your tears and snot away with his sleeve, you break all over again, because no one should show you what their love feels like, unless they mean to give it to you full time.

After a moment, he snuggles you closer, "I can't do anything about the…," he pauses, and blushes before he continues, "the no sex part, but all the rest...," he states with an air of certainty. "I can help you with." He places his head on the top of yours. You wrap an arm around his waist, "even if it's just to listen. I'm here for you, Chlo."

You sit there for a few minutes in comfortable silence before you look up and stare into his eyes. Green-blue, and so bright that you can't believe you didn't know, the moment you looked into them, that he wasn't from this world. No one on earth had eyes like Clark's, and with that thought, you know you need distance, now!

"So tell me about Lana?" You ask as you let him go, because that is not your place to be, it is someone else's embrace and comfort, you're just borrowing it for a brief time.

"I thought you told me to leave if I started talking about her?' he asks as he takes a sip of your coffee and wrinkles his nose in disgust.

You grab the cup back and make a joke about getting his own. Thankfully he does, giving you time to regroup. When he comes back with his coffee, he smiles, and you pretend it doesn't break a piece of your heart.

"No talking about Lana, today," he says as he sits down, "I only want to hear about my other favourite girl."

"Who, Lex?" you ask cheekily.

He rolls his eyes, "I don't know why you think Lex is girly, I just don't see it."

It's an ongoing joke between the two of you, that you never find old, and really, anything you can say or do to pretend you didn't just have a mini breakdown, you're more than happy to do.

"That's because you're so blind you need super sight to see anything," you joke. You hope your smile doesn't look as fake as it feels, but when his smile turns to pity, you know you've failed.

"Don't look at me like that!" you snap, but he only shakes his head. He knows you too well, and he's not going to start a fight.

"Chloe," he says in a soft tone, "you're on the top of my list. Lana may be my girl at the moment, and we both know-," He stops and runs his fingers through his dark hair, before he stares into your eyes, "We both know, Lana and I won't last forever, but you Chlo," he says and takes your hand, "You'll be my girl always."

You don't know what to say, so you say nothing. What can you say, really? It's everything you want, but in a context that breaks your heart. You'll always be his girl-always his friend.

When you drive back to work. Clark sits next to you, singing along to a song you hate, you turn it down and say.

"You know- you'll always be my guy."

His smile is radiant, and when he starts to sing again, you find it adorable. He's the worse singer, he's completely off tune. You sing along just as badly, and the both of you take turns swaying your head to the music. You two are as goofy as ever, and you love every minute of it. You know how screwed you are, but can't stop yourself, you'll always be in love with your best friend.

* * *

A few weeks later, you're reading a short story from a new novelist that Arthur recommended to you.

On the weekend, the two of you went on a boat ride together. You love the smell of the ocean. You watch in quiet fascination as the water moves slowly up the boat. Arthur reaches out his hand, and you gasp, as the water reaches out and curls around him. He laughs as the water slides slowly up his arm. It's telling him a story, that only Arthur can hear. His eyes met yours, and you notice they are the same color as the ocean. Arthur's smile is brilliant, and he motions you to come closer. He grabs your arm and the water curls around both your hands. You smile at the warmth of the water and the feeling it brings you. You ask Arthur in wonder, 'Is it alive?' His eyes crinkle upward and he nods his head.

You smile as you recall Arthur's happy expression and take a sip of your coffee, when you hear a noise that makes you jump. You feel warm coffee roll down your chin and hit your shirt-Your White Shirt!

Damn it, why do you wear white at all?

You look up at Clark and he makes a noise, a loud sigh that screams,' why is life so hard for me?' You really wish you had an answer for him.

"Clark," you say in greeting. He sits down, in a way that makes it appear like all the bones in his body have just evaporated, leaving him nothing more than flesh and muscle. He places his head on the table and looks as pitiful as you've ever seen him.

"Talk to me," you say, because you're not heartless. You know today is one of those days, you need to be the best friend. One with ears as long as the distance between his home world, and the one he was dropped into as a child.

He looks up at you, and as always, there is something about his eyes that just draws you in.

He silent for a moment, before he whispers, "Lana and I broke up."

It kills you, it really kills you, that Clark is this clueless about relationships.

"I'm sure you'll get back together soon," you say, because it's what you always say. It's what he always wants to hear. The warmth of the cup settles in your hand as you pickup the coffee. It reminds you to take a deep breath and calm down.

Clark stares at you without that hopeful gleam in his eyes. The one that says, 'I know and thank you for reaffirming it for me.' In fact, Clark looks even more upset.

The change in Clark's eyes causes you to place down your cup and really listen to him.

"What happened?" you ask with concern, because you feel it in the air, the change that comes, before everything you think is right is in fact, all wrong. You hate this feeling and it reminds you too much of the day he told you, you were infected with mutant powers.

Clark looks away and his eyes are glazing over. You swear the man is about to cry. He takes a deep breath and it breaks your heart. You picture killing Lana. 'That bitch, did she go back to Lex?'

Clark's still silent, and you're about to lose it when he says quietly.

"I told her I'm in love with someone else."

There are times in your life where everything stops moving. Everything goes in slow motion, and you picture the fairytale ending. You picture him telling you that he loves you, it seems so unreal that you stop the fantasy before he gets the first two words out. You know your breathing has become shallow, and your eyes are wide, but you can't help it.

Your next question is an obvious one, but you can't ask. The words are lingering in the air, and you swallow down the taste of stale, sugary coffee. You can practically taste the question on the tip of your tongue, but it will not break free!

Clark pushes the grains of sugar that you spilled a few minutes ago- when life still made sense. It's all so surreal, and you can't even hear the white noise of other people's conversation, your heart is beating too fast. You know he can hear it, but the real question is- is it so loud that everyone else can hear it too? Is that why the cafe is so silent, is everyone waiting for you to ask?

He doesn't look up, and you hate him for making you do this. Can't he help you out, just this once, and answer the damn question on his own?

Your voice squeaks, and your cheeks go red, before the question comes out like you're a chipmunk on speed.

"Who is it?"

And thank god, he understands you, because you can't ask again! Your heart is no longer beating at a deafening pace, in fact, you're pretty sure it has stopped all together.

Clark is looking this way and that, as if he is making sure no one can hear. You look around too, because you can't imagine why the hell it needs to be a secret…and then you get it, you don't know how, but…you know who it is, before he tells you.

The name is like a dark tar in the air that makes you want to gag.

"Lex," he whispers and ..Him.

You know you can act out a feeling. You have done it more times then you care to admit, but something in you can't move. You take a breath, and realize, its not just one thing, but everything inside of you is stuck.

You look around the café, and what was once a hideaway from everything, has become a place you can never enter again. The smell of the coffee and cookies are too sweet, the noises around you too loud, and the atmosphere too pretentious to stand.

You want out, and the way Clark is looking at you, you know everything is written all over your face. He is no longer looking at you with hope, and a need for understanding, but with shock and surprise.

"Chloe," he says, but his voice is only white noise compared to all the thoughts going on in your head.

You had thought, just for a mere moment you let yourself believe that…,

You don't even know your up and out of your chair, until you feel Clark's hand on you shoulder. You push him away as if his touch burns you,-somehow, it literally feels like it does.

"Lex," you hiss, because your mouth is no longer running on the same wave length as your brain, "Lex, fucking, Luthor!"

You screamed at Clark, you've never screamed at anyone before, but you can't stop yourself. You need to get away, and thankfully, you can at least control your feet.

Your running out, but the asshole is following you. Your mouth runs alongside with you, even though it says everything you don't want it to say.

"You know what, Clark," you shout as you walk out of the café, "I'm done, I can't do this anymore."

And you can hear his words of disbelieve, "Chloe, please!" but you can't stop.

"I can't believe you would do this to me," you hiss as you walk to the parking lot.

"I can't believe how heartless you are. How could you say it that way?" you shout as you fish in your purse for your keys. Just to add a little more embarrassment to the fire, you drop your purse and all the contents slip out onto the street. Clark bends down to help you, and you slap him away hard.

"Fuck!" you shout as you cradle your hand. It feels like you just slammed it against steel. The burn of it is intense and painful. You flex your hand and hiss with pain. Clark cries out in worry, but you tell him to get the fuck away from you.

"Chloe, let me see your hand," he demands, but you shake your head.

You can feel tears rolling down your cheeks, and it's getting into your long, blonde hair. You started growing it out a few years ago, when Clark said it would look nice long. You want to go to a hair salon this instant.

"Get away from me, Clark!" you snarl and something in your voice makes him stand up.

You place your stuff back into your purse. You glance up at him and give him a look that you have never given him before. He flinches as if you just slapped him.

"Lex Luthor," you spit out the name, "what the hell is wrong with you, Clark?'

He looks broken by your words, but you can't stop, as you jam your key into your car. You want him to leave, you don't want to say anymore, but he won't leave, and your mouth won't stop moving.

"That bastard has hurt you as much, hell even more, than Lana has," you growl as you rip open the car door. You glare, "do I have to hurt you just as bad, Clark, before you see me? Is that the only way someone can get your love?"

You slam the door in his face. Your hand smarts as you place the key in the ignition. You flinch when Clark's favourite song blasts out of your stereo.

You turn off the music and listen to Clark knock on your window. You watch him watching you helplessly. You loved this man more than anyone in this world. You changed so much, gave up so much for this man, and-,

"I'm sorry," he pleads, loud enough for you to hear, "I didn't know."

This lie, more than any other lie, breaks you in a way that causes you to grab your chest as if your heart is being physically torn from your body

"Yes, you did," you whisper, your voice sounds snakelike with it's quiet hiss like tones. You can barely hear your own voice but you know he can hear you perfectly. "You've always known."

You stare into his eyes filling with shame, and yours fill with tears. You look down, and brush them away. There is nothing left to say and you rip out of the parking lot, without a single look back.

You feel your cell phone vibrate in your pocket, and switch it to speaker phone. A picture of Ollie is on your screen.

"Hey Chloe, what are you up to tonight?"

You stare out the windshield, it looks cold outside, and listen to the sound of Ollie's breathing. You know you can't do this anymore! Before you even realize it, you've hit 'End Call' on you screen. You stare at the large towers ahead of you and your fingers tighten over your steering wheel. You turn off your cell before anyone gets a chance to call you back.

* * *

A/N: Please review. Let me know what you think of the style. Not sure who I want Chloe to end up with at the end of thisJ


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